


Empty Soldier

by chaya



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 08:55:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15703941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: Someone asked for a Winter Soldier mashup. Spoilers for Ep 26.





	Empty Soldier

There are three others. One is a beast, he guesses - it growls and whines, making scratching noises against the chilled stone walls. Another is a woman who argues with herself, or with someone who doesn’t respond… it’s hard to tell. The last one is a young child that doesn’t speak Common.

When the child is taken away and doesn’t come back, Empty hopes they got to go home.

Empty’s room has a low ceiling and a rug for him to sleep on. There is a barred window on the heavy metal door, and through it he watches the dark haired human man come down the stairs. Once he catches a glimpse of the woman who stays in the room next to him - her skin is glimmering blue and her hair is golden, literally golden, but matted with dried blood and grime. With just the rags on her body Empty would guess that she was a soldier, once, or something like it. The bruises on her flesh are yellowed, purple, dark green. When she comes back and there are fresh injuries, the blood around her mouth is red and black.

There are similar colors on Empty’s tattoos. He looks at them sometimes in the dim torchlight, wondering what kind of bird it’s meant to be.

The dark haired human has an accent that’s unfamiliar but.. there’s something about it. When the man goes back up the stairs, Empty runs his fingertips against the strange green glass flecks in the walls and clears his throat.

“Where is he from?”

The woman doesn’t answer for a long time. “What?”

“He sounds like he’s…”

“I don’t know,” the woman says, and she sounds tired and angry. Empty flinches. “What does it matter?”

Empty isn’t sure. “I’m sorry.”

“Just be quiet. Please.”

Empty finds himself happy to have a clear instruction for once. He hasn’t been taken upstairs much yet. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing.

**

Empty is pretty sure they’re bleeding her. She’s getting weaker every time she’s brought back, and sometimes he catches glimpses of cuts, marks, he - they don’t look like the scars on his own body, but -

“Are you going to die?” he asks one night.

To his surprise, she laughs. “I hope so.”

That sounds awful. Empty frowns. “I’d miss you.”

“I hope I die,” she says, as if he hadn’t said anything. “I’ve lived… years following orders from scum that won’t lift a finger to save me. I hope I die and go to their plane so I can -” She heaves in a gasp and coughs wetly. It goes on so long. “- I - I want to spend eternity with them, reminding them what useless shits they are.”

Empty doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know anyone outside this building. If he includes the woman, he’s met three people.

“I hope you die too,” the woman adds quietly. She sounds like she means it to be nice.

**

The dark haired human hauls him out of his room and up the stairs and he sees the human woman again. Her tight blonde curls are in a braid today. She doesn’t look up as he gets chained to the floor. She’s writing things down in the usual book.

“More cleansing today,” she says finally, after he’s laid there several minutes. He clenches his jaw and looks over at the fireplace. Sometimes he looks forward to this room because of its warmth. Sometimes…

**

Today was his abdomen. The poker was followed by her hands - never quickly enough - and now Empty is back in his room, fingers drifting over the puckered, almost-smooth skin. The flowers he can’t name are gone up to the beginnings of his ribs. He’s not sure if he misses them.

“What do they do to you up there?” the woman in the other room asks. Empty’s not sure if she’s ever asked him a question before.

“They burn my skin clean.” He drags a ragged nail across where a petal used to be.

She doesn’t say anything back.

“Why am I named Empty?” he asks. He feels like he’s been curious for a while, but it’s hard to tell.

“What?”

“My name. Why am I named Empty?”

“I’m the only one who’s called you that,” she says, sounding confused. “It used to be all you’d say.”

**

Empty isn’t sure how long he’s been here. He knows he’s an adult, but he isn’t sure if he was born in this room or somewhere else. The scars across his body could be from this place, but the tattoos don’t fit in. The human woman is almost done burning them off. Apparently there are some on his face. He’s not looking forward to that.

The golden-haired woman in the other room hasn’t come back. It’s been a few hours. Or maybe a day. He’s not sure. He doesn’t hear her upstairs.

The dark-haired human man comes with more bread and a water skin. Takes his bucket away and puts in an empty one. Empty knows to stay in his corner and face the wall as it happens. He’s been here long enough to know that.

**

The dark-haired human holds his head while the woman rolls the poker slowly across his cheek. Empty can smell his own burned flesh as he screams.

**

Empty can’t stand after that. The dark haired man has to haul him back to his room. He says order has to come from pain. Empty isn’t sure what that means.

**

As the woman talks to him more, Empty realizes she has the accent too. A little fainter. She tells him that their teacher is coming back soon, and Empty needs to learn politeness in time for that return.

Politeness means following orders. He already does that. But he also has to stop talking.

“To you, too?” he asks softly. The woman looks at him with a sort of confusion - there’s dark rings under her eyes, a startled vacancy that Empty is pretty sure he should fear.

“You can answer a question if I ask you one,” she says slowly, and he nods.

**

The Teacher is an old human man with white hair and white and gold robes. Something about him makes Empty’s skin go cold.

Empty knows he met him. He knows the man talked. But he’s sitting back in his room now, on the floor by the wall, and he can’t remember more than that. His head aches.

**

Empty waits for the beast in the other room to disappear too. It seems like it is the next thing that should happen. But it whines and growls and scratches, and nobody tends to it.


End file.
